Paul Mall - Driving Men To Distraction

Chance Weston left Joe Landan's bachelor party early, straight up midnight. He also left sober.

If the still untouched cases of beer that were in the refrigerator were any indication, the bash would continue to four or five that morning.

But spending Friday night with ten young men, watching them get falling down drunk, listening to their tasteless jokes, was not Chance's idea of how to begin a weekend.

Besides there was another pre-wedding event that held his complete attention-a celebration of the bride-to-be's own making.

The celebration began the moment he walked into his apartment. Marianne was there waiting for him, and in his arms before he could shut the door behind him.

The abundantly endowed brunette pressed firmly against him. She swayed a bit, seductively. Her breasts rolled tauntingly over his chest. Her pelvis undulated against his thigh in a very provocative manner, while her mouth covered his.

"Mmmmmmm," she sighed, her lips still touching his. "I've been thinking about this all day. I didn't think you'd ever get home!"

"I couldn't just walk into Joe's party and walk out could I?" Chance smiled down into the girl's soft brown eyes. "I didn't want my departure to be too obvious."

"Should have walked over to my future husband and told him you were going to your apartment to ball his woman," Marianne said.

"Shameless!" Chance chided with a grin.

"A brazen hussy," Marianne replied in agreement. "Serves the bastard right. If he'd rather spend the night before our wedding getting plastered with the boys, then the future Mrs. Landan can find ways to occupy herself."

She kissed him again. Her tongue darted deeply into his mouth probing and teasing. If possible, she seemed to press even harder against him, making it more than apparent how she wanted to be occupied the eve of her wedding.

Kicking the door shut, his arms tightened around the delightful bundle of willing womanflesh. He returned her passionate kiss, his own tongue drilling into the warm haven of her mouth.

Her feel against him, the sensual promise of her eager body, her taste, it was all like a nostalgic return to the past-two years past to be exact. He and Marianne first met then. They dated a bit and struck it off, enough that she moved in with him for six months that last year in college.

It hadn't worked. They just didn't have that much in common, except sexual appetites that were seemingly insatiable. They both were intelligent and realized that no matter how much they liked to ball it just wasn't enough to build a permanent relationship on. So after graduation, they both packed their bags and went their separate ways, still friends.

He hadn't heard from Marianne until six months ago when she and Joe first started seeing each other. She was still friendly, but there had been no hint that she was interested in anything more than a casual, friend-of-the-family relationship, until Chance received her phone call at work that morning. By the time she finished her intimate reminiscence of their past, there was no way he could refuse her suggestion that they get together one more time "for old time's sake."

"Whew!" The brunette's head tilted back a bit and she sucked in a deep breath. "I'd almost forgotten just how good you were at that."

Before she could speak another word, he kissed her again. At the same time, he maneuvered her toward the bedroom. Inside, his fumbling fingers found the light switch and flipped it on, remembering that this saucy brunette had no hangups about making it in the dark. In fact, she liked the light, enjoyed seeing the reactions and facial expressions of her sexual partner.

As the lights flashed on, they parted again. Her eyes now sparkled, alive with a certain gleam of a woman who's about to share her body with a man. She kissed him lightly, then slipped his arms from around her and stepped back.

Her fingers immediately began to work on the first button of her brightly colored floral blouse. His groin tightened and retightened while he watched the opening of her blouse dip deeper and deeper, finally exposing the familiar expanse of sleek flesh between her breasts, then two big globes of tit that jiggled and danced erotically as she eased herself out of her clothing. Already the two buttons of flesh topping each of her heavy breasts were stiff and erect with arousal. The haloes surrounding those dark-brown buds were stretched tight and sleek.

Marianne hadn't changed, he thought to himself while stripping away his own clothes. She still was beautiful and her tits were the finest pair a man could hope to encounter in a lifetime.

By the time he tossed his slacks across a nearby chair, the willing brunette was standing naked before him. She posed a bit, her supple legs spread a little so that his eyes traveled to the lusciousness of her thighs and the bush of her pubis, a shade darker than the hair cascading around her shoulders.

"Beautiful," he said, meaning it. She was beautiful-and very desirable.

"Beautiful."

She came bounding back into his arms. His senses were flooded with the marvelous feel of skin on skin, flesh against flesh. She kissed him long and hard. The stiff tips of her breasts dug into his chest, as though trying to drill small holes into his flesh. Her pelvis ground into his crotch, rubbing against the now rigid length of his cock. She rose on her tiptoes as if she intended to climb up on him and mount the stiffness of his sex while they stood there.

"Yes," she said with an emphatic thrust of her hips. "I've been thinking about that all day."

"Then what are we standing here for?" He grinned, reaching down and squeezing the womanly cheeks of her ass. "Why don't you get this lovely bottom of yours on my bed?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied, moving from his arms with lustful alacrity and lying on her back atop the bed.

Again her creamy white thighs spread to him, this time without the coy teasing of her earlier pose, but with the yearning of her own mounting need. Beneath the silky soft moss, covering her feminine knoll in a neat triangle, he could see the pink slit of her sex. Droplets of moisture sparkled on those plump lips, announcing the brunette's arousal.

His testicles drawing tightly into the security of their sac, he moved toward the voluptuous picture presented by the supine woman lying on the bed. His eyes traveled over her nakedness, taking in every inch of her bare body. Like satin-covered pillows, her big tits shimmered on her chest, no longer heavy globes, but fleshy domes of desire. Her stomach was smooth and flat. Her navel was perfectly round, deep, and sensual.

Her own eyes were leveled at the thick stalk of manmeat jutting from his groin. As he watched, her nostrils flared with excitement and her chest heaved in labored breaths.

He slid onto the bed beside her, hovering above her a moment before leaning down and kissing her. At the same time, he allowed one of his hands to playfully fondle and caress the bountiful bulges of her breasts. She sighed-moaned and arched her back, pressing her tits into his exploring palm.

He circled the sloping contours of her tits, climbing up their roundness to taut and tweak the rubbery nipples cresting them. He squeezed and kneaded the pliant mounds of flesh, as though they were balls of dough for his molding fingers. He rolled them, he tugged at them, and then his head dropped to her chest and he kissed and sucked them.

While tongue, teeth, and lips busied her now sexually aching breasts, he slipped his hand down over the sleek plain of her stomach and dipped between her spread thighs. For a moment he titillated the woman beside him by weaving his fingers through the silky strands of her pubic foliage and lightly rubbing the wanton mound of her pussy.